The sun was shining, birds chirping, and his brother was snoring in his ear like a fucking earthquake. Lovino growled weakly in his sleep-addled state, lips lifting slightly to show small, gleaming fangs.
Shifting slightly so he was facing away from his little brother, he happily went back to sleep... that was, until his grandfather let loose a huge goddamn howl, signaling to the pack to get the hell up.
Groaning, he shoved his front legs over his ears, determined to stay in his magical land of tomatoes and not-crazy realatives, unlike his brother, who soon jumped at the chance of showing off his singing skills. It was usually a bunch of gibberish due to him being a small-one, the name the adults used for the littler wolf cubs.
He himself was a Junior, almost a Senior. It was nearing his Being Ceremony, a celebration that used ancient techniques- namely the Elders sleeping in a circle and recieving a message from the gods- to determine whether or not he was a bearer (weaker wolves who birthed and took care of the smaller ones, though alphas of this kind kept their higher position in the pack), a braver (a group of wolves who dealt with war tactics and relations between tribes), or a granter, who became Elders in their later years of life. His own would take place tonight, but he was too tired to get up, dammit.
A moist nose nuzzled his exposed ear, which was replied with a loud snarl by the lanky pup. Letting out an amused chuckle, Romulus grabbed him by the loose skin on his scruff. Eyes flying open and squirming to bite the grown wolf in his irritation, Lovino growled lowly, lips curled and eyes narrowed.
Stopping his howling- which sounded more like a dying squirrel- his sibling looked to him with eager eyes, tail wagging and tongue drooping over rubbery lips.
"Lovi," he squealed, eyes lighting up as he noticed his brother being carried towards the entrance to the cave. Curling into himself and ignoring his brother, Lovino blushed under his fur, ears pinned to his auburn head. He whined as he was plopped down near the edge of the well-worn cliff, glaring daggers at his grandfather. Howls of approval echoed through the assembled crowd of wolves, the omegas the loudest, comically falling over each other in their excitement for the small, but feisty alpha pup.
"Lovi-noo," his brother squeaked again, lunging at him and licking down his face with an eager, slobbery, tongue. He snarled at the younger pup, nipping his shoulder in agitation. Yelping, the small pup scrambled away from him. Plopping himself down, he rolled his eyes, turning to his attention to his grandfather, the great leader of the pack, who howled loudly to gain their undivided attention.
"Today," he began, eyes gleaming with unbriddled pride, "is the day my dear grandpup, Lovino's, Being Ceremony will occur. This sacred event shall be held at midnight." He sent a reproachful glance towards the small pups in the front row, who smiled innocently, eyes sparkling with mischievous intent. "When most small-ones should be asleep."
Feliciano huffed disappointedly, curling his tail around his feet upsetly. Leaning over Lovino whispered, "I'll personally ask for you to attend, but you must behave the entire day." All wolves experiencing their ceremony were permitted to have a guest to attend, and, although it was his only Being Ceremony, he chose his brother to be his. Not very many wolf cubs wished to spend too much time in his presence due to his... unique personality.
This was largely because of their mother's disapproval of his rude and boisterously obnoxious attitude. He, nor his brother saw any flaw but, as previously stated, mothers didn't want their sons acting like ruffian lone wolves.
After his statement, his sibling jolted upwards, eyes restrained and focused, and tail erect and stiff. Puffing out his chest, he keyed in on the morning speech.
"... like any other wolf of his generation and rank, he will be treated with the utmost respect during this- most likely- nervous and unstable time. Though for my grandpup, that seems impossible, we are to treat him as we do all Juniors who are nearing their Being Ceremony. I have organized a meeting between all of the older wolf pups, those of which are nearing their Being Ceremony, along with most of the newly membered wolves." Howls rose in approval, both joyous and unhappy barks sounding at the intervals.
With one final, powerful howl, Romulous stated simply, "You are dismissed." He stood with a small note of caution, and stalked towards the cave calmly, leaving the wolves to do as they pleased.
$ $#^
Like any other small-one, Feliciano wished to frolic among the Elders, perhaps joining in with the new mothers and their litter, admiring the new playmates he soon would have. His own Being Ceremony was a whole 6 moons away, surely enough time to play with the newer litters.
He hopped across the camp, panting excitedly as he neared the nursery, the yipping and crying of newborn cubs echoing fondly in his ears. Two pups, almost old enough to leave the nursery, wrestled with each other outside the bramble thicket, coats shaggy and thickly plastered with leaves.
"Hi," he cheerfully crowed. His pronounciation had updated from the lengthened, buchered version of his brother's name. He knew how to pronounce the title, but it was amusing to see his older brother with flaming anger fanning out in his eyes.
Ceasing their play-fighting, the two nursery pups grinned excitedly. "Fee-li," they cried in unison, tumbling onto him with a happiness rivaling his own. He chuckled as he fell to the ground, slippery tongues running over his face.
"Okay, okay." He gave them each a friendly lick on the cheek, shaking himself off, dirt and small torn pieces of grass flying around him. Gilbert looked smug, staring at his brother with a haughtly air. Ludwig rolled his eyes, ignoring his brother's stupidity, instead focusing on Feliciano's well-being.
"Whee didn't hurts you did ve," Ludwig said, a curious worry lighting up his eyes. Though his speach pattern was more advanced than his brother's, both of them being born several weeks early sent them farther behind their peers.
Sitting on his haunches, Feliciano started licking his side. "No," he paused, looking at the concerned gazes of the younger pups, "I'm fine." He sent a reassuring grin their way before returning to his licking.
"You soore," the white pup whined, turning to his brother and gnawing on his brother's ear. Ludwig twisted around, snipping at his sibling with sharp white canines. Gilbert whined in frustration as he rubbed his sore nose with his free paw, clammering on top of his brother.
They stopped their fighting as they heard Feliciano's melodic chuckle, tails both wagging in accomplishment.
Feli, still sitting, suddenly hopped up, startling the two younger wolves. "Play a game?" he questioned lightly, rump lifted in the air, and ears tugged playfully back.
The twins' (though Gilbert would argue that he was older) eyes widened. Usually Feliciano only wanted to talk, usually conversing lightly with their mother as they played, trying to fight for dominance- unharmed of course.
Feli was surprised at himself. What was he doing? He was the peaceful one; sending disapproving glares at those who warrented the frightful wars between packs. Why was he so eager to play-fight. Because they want to, his mind sneakily whispered and he blushed under his fur. He retained his grin, though his nose twitched a bit, showing that he was nervous.
Once they were sure he wasn't kidding, the two brothers smirked towards each other. In unison they ducked down, matching smiles painted on their muzzles.
"3, 2, 1."
The two cubs plowed towards him, and he easily dodged, jumping over them and landing softly in the dirt pulled up in their wake. Shaking their quick defeat off, the two wolf cubs split up, glancing at each other to convey the plan.
We attack, Ludwig said.
But he dodges.
So we force him to attack.
Nodding, they underwent the idea. They stalked around the lankier pup, who growled weakly in defiance. He tried to hop over one pup, but was quickly swarmed by the other. Snarling in a rare showing of frustration, he dashed quickly at one pup, nipping and kicking as the other swiftly came to his brother's defence.
Tossing around in the mounds of dirt, they soon were laughing, Feliciano eventually pinning one of them don while one pulled on his tail to get off his brother. Gilbert grinned up at him, panting in exhileration. "Guess yous won."
He groaned as Feli lay down on top of him.
"You're comfy," was his answer to the questionable punishment, and the older pup yanked his tail away from Ludwig, examining the ruffled fur.
Shrugging, he lay his head down on top of Gilbert's, ignoring the constant attempts to throw him off. Faking deep-throated snores, Feli turned over to his back, startlingly shrieking as Ludwig nudged his side and tossed him off.
He huffed, curling his fluffed tail around his legs as he got up, turning his back on the blond and white pups. "Won't play with rude pups." They flinched as he put extra stress on the word 'pups'. Feliciano immediately felt bad, but they deserved it. He wanted to play with them, and they were mean and pushed him off when he was making a joke.
"Just want to play a game," he whispered as he lay down on his stomach, head mournfully laid on his front paws.
Guiltily looking at each other, Gilbert and Ludwig got up themselves, slowly walking up and laying on each side of Feliciano. "Sorry," they muttered into his fur, nuzzling his neck and thumping their tails against his side as he smiled gently.
"It's okay," he murmured, hazel eyes glinting in happiness.
A howl rang out, followed by the bark of his name. He stood up, cheerfully wagging his tail. "Bye," he called as he ran down the path to the leader's den, scrambling up the large rocks, greeting his grandfather with a lick on the neck, respectfully bowing as he was given a caress with his grandfather's tongue.
They disappeared into the cave, chatting gaily about their days.
Their mother called them from the bramble thicket, pine cones rattling as they ran inside, tucking themselves next to his belly. Alaric chuckled as they slid next to him, laying his head tiredly down. Next month they'll be out of my fur, and into Mathias's. He chuckled as he thought of his unruly pups messing with the tough former-rogue.
"Night."
"Night," they answered simultaniously, their soft snores soon echoing with the other pups.